I Love George Weasley
by FredFanatic
Summary: Katie's distraught on Valentine's Day and her quill is acting bizerk...but it's no mystery who's behind it. Katie/George One-shot.


**A/N:** This is just a little one-shot I wrote in the spirit of Valentine's Day—I know it's a little late, but you'll read it anyway.

**----I Love George Weasley----**

Potions class: By far the worst two hours of my day, and every day it gets harder to endure Snape's jeering stares and his hideously disturbing greasy and stringy locks.

Every second day I have to sit through the endless terror and horrors of Severus Snape—and today was even worse than usual. Today is Valentine's Day.

Anyone who has had the misfortune of knowing Professor Severus Snape knows of all holidays to exist (or semi-holidays in this case), Valentine's Day is sure to be his least favourite.

Today Snape was in a particularly foul mood, and anyone caught frolicking or enjoying the light-heartedness and flirtatious air the day generally created was to be severely punished. All of us were well aware of this.

In my third year, when Professor Lockhart was employed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Snape threw a huge fit during my potions class.

It happened on Valentine's Day due to Lockhart's undeniably irritating over-celebration of such a ridiculous half-holiday. He got so angry at Lockhart and his spread of cheer that he knocked over a cauldron full of an acid-based potion that consequentially burned a massive hole in the floor. Several desks and students fell through the hole, narrowly missing caretaker Mr. Filch who was seated at his desk in the broom closet beneath us.

I was one of the unfortunate few who had fallen through the hole—I landed on Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris. He's never been fond of me since.

So, here I am, sitting in potions class silently, trying extra hard not to do anything to anger Snape on his least favourite day of the year. It's a difficult thing to achieve, let me assure you, especially when the man—if you can call him that—despises the entire Gryffindor house and enjoys dispensing his wrath upon us on a daily basis.

"Turn to page one-hundred and twenty-three and take notes on the effects of the Bolgry potion," Snape instructed in that deathly quiet snarling voice of his.

The class stared up at him in silence.

"Now!" he yelled, causing us all to jump.

There was a hurried bustle as everyone flipped through books and took out quills and parchment from their bags.

I set my ink bottle on my desk and blotted my quill.

I titled my page: _Bolgry Potion_, underlined it and placed my quill back into the ink bottle.

Whilst scanning over the page in my text book I placed my quill back on the parchment, and when I looked back down to make my notes, I had to do a double-take.

In the exact space where I had written '_Bolgry Potion_' the words '_I Love George Weasley_' were now staring up at me in bright pink letters.

I stared at the parchment in shock for a few moments before I crossed the words out—a pink line went through the sentence. I stared at my quill, and then at my ink bottle—my ink was black.

I tried again, this time paying close attention as I wrote the title on the page. Now I know I wrote it right this time: _Bolgry Potion_. But just as I was thinking I was imagining the whole occurrence and it was an isolated event, the writing changed.

_I love George Weasley_

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" I whispered to myself.

I crossed the words out again.

_The Effects of Bolgry Potion_

I waited five seconds.

_I LOVE George Weasley!!_

I scoffed, feeling irritated and frustrated. Clearly this was some sort of a joke, but no jokester would ever beat me. I took my quill into my hand again and formed a new sentence:

_Snape is a slime bag_.

The letters disappeared slowly and in its place, the same four words formed yet again:

_I love George Weasley._

Determined, I tried again:

_I __hate__ George Weasley._

Again they disappeared, and in their place:

_I, Katie Bell, am in love with the gorgeous and amazing George Weasley._

Ten more minutes I fought with my quill with no luck, that same message kept coming up again and again. I even tried switching ink—it didn't help. I deduced that it must be the quill that was causing the problem. But even when I switched to a second quill from my bag, and then a third, the same four pink words kept reappearing on the page in front of me.

"I will murder you George Weasley," I whispered. This was surely his doing. That boy was always targeting me as his stupid prank victim.

Unbeknownst to me, as I sat there confused and agitated and unable to take notes, Professor Snape had snuck up behind me.

"Ehem—Miss Bell," he said snakily.

I jumped in my seat and attempted to block the parchment from his view.

"Professor," I gasped, my eyes wide with horror.

"Is that _pink_ ink I see?" he questioned, his eyes lingering on the page now hidden beneath my shielding hands.

"No, Professor," I fibbed, trying hard to sound innocent.

"Do not lie to me, Bell," he said, pulling the parchment out from under my hands, "Coloured ink is forbidden in my classroom. Five points from Gryffindor!"

As soon as he had spat the words out he turned on his heel and began to head for the front of the classroom. I scrunched my face up into a look of discomfort.

_If luck is on my side he'll just throw the parchment out without reading it…_

"What's this?" he said quietly, looking over my neat handwriting.

_Luck is not on my side._

"Professor, I can explain," I started, "George Weasley—"

"Is the object of your affection I presume?" he snarled, "Another ten points from Gryffindor for disobeying my instructions. And perhaps you would care to join the boy in detention tonight."

I glared at Snape angrily. The entire class had heard our conversation and were now under the impression that I have a thing for George Weasley. Snickers and whispers were being passed around the classroom, but I said nothing.

I would save my anger for the culprit.

_George Weasley will pay._

---

That night while everyone was enjoying their delicious dinner in the Great Hall, I was headed to the dungeon to serve my detention for Snape.

On the way I passed by several happy couples basking in the Valentine's Day joy…that was one good point. At least detention would get me away from all of this lovey-dovey crap. Merlin knows I don't have anyone to spend it with anyway.

_This really is a horrid day._

I had not seen George at all after potions class. He must have known I would be out for his blood after his little stunt. The good news is I still have a chance to murder him. If Snape was telling the truth when he said I'd be in detention with George, I would have the perfect opportunity to strangle him to death with no witnesses. I'm sure Snape wouldn't oppose to me disposing of the vile boy anyhow.

Upon entering Snape's classroom I was met by his loathing sneer. It was accompanied by quite a similar one from caretaker Mr. Filch.

If Filch was here it meant I would be spending detention doing cleaning or repairing around the school. I was actually relieved to see him. Anything is better than serving detention with Snape.

"Good evening Miss Bell," Snape snarled unpleasantly.

A quick glance around the room told me George was not present.

"Where's the other one, Severus?" Filch asked.

"I assumed he'd be arriving with Bell," Snape told him, not taking his eyes off of me.

I bit my lip to stop myself saying something that would get me into even more trouble.

"Of course there's always the possibility that the feelings this foolish girl has for the Weasley boy are not returned," he sneered.

"I do not have feelings for Weasley," I snapped.

"Your potions note seems to contradict that statement," he said, scrunching his face up into a sort of grimace—I assumed it was supposed to be a victorious smile.

Filch snickered from behind him and I glared at Snape. Only Snape, the stupid smarmy letch, would ever stoop to the levels of using a student's feelings to mock them. The only thing worse than exploiting a person's emotions is the fact that he was exploiting emotions that didn't exist.

Fortunately, before I got a chance to say anything else that I might regret, the idiot himself burst into the room. He arrived with a huge grin on his face, looking as though he would rather be here in detention than anywhere else in the world—a feeling I did not share.

He clapped his hands together when he spotted the rest of us, "Ahh, I won't be alone on this endeavour I see," he commented, his eyes landing on me.

"Indeed Weasley, thanks to Miss Bell's total lack of discipline, you will be serving detention together with Mr. Filch," Snape said, the grimace still present on his disturbingly ugly face.

"Let's get a move on then, wouldn't want to be late," George suggested happily, holding the dungeon door open.

Filch quirked his eyebrow at him as he headed for the door. I followed, sending George a death glare cold enough to penetrate his skull as I went.

"Katie darling," George said, "Frowning really does not become you."

I clenched my fists in rage, but held my anger in. It would have to wait for when we were out of Filch's presence.

I walked in silence, ignoring George's attempts to catch my eye, as Filch led us out of the castle and into the dark night. He stopped semi-near Hagrid's hut and handed me the lantern he was carrying.

"Your job," he said slowly, "Is to dig up all of these roots here—by hand."

He tapped at the ground with his foot and I looked down. There were hundreds of bright purple roots sprouting from the ground at our feet. Nearby, two large buckets stood waiting to be filled.

"When you're done, give them to Hagrid, he'll take care of them from there," he snarled.

George and I stared at him without a reply.

"You're not to come in until you've got the job done," he finished, turning on his heel and heading back for the castle, Mrs. Norris tailing him closely.

"So, I suppose we should get started," George said cheerily.

He took out his wand, muttered _Lumos_, and stuck it upright in the moist ground. It shed more light on the earth surrounding us, allowing us to better see the roots we had to retrieve.

I immediately dropped to my knees and began to dig through the dirt with my hands. I refused to look up at George or utter a word to him until Filch was out of view. I reached into the ground and repeatedly tugged out the purple roots within. I then tossed them into the bucket nearest me, watching Filch retreat out of the corner of my eye.

Once I had decided that he was safely out of earshot I tugged a root out of the ground and whipped it straight at George. It hit him squarely in the back, and he stumbled forward from his kneeling position—that's one thing Quidditch has done for me, I've now got a wicked throw.

"Ouch!" he yelled, "What was that for?!"

"For being a great bloody prat," I spat at him, standing to my full 5'7" height. It's not short, but once Weasley had stood upright I felt dwarfed.

"Now Katie, what on earth are you going on about?" George asked, sounding surprisingly innocent.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about George Weasley!" I yelled at him.

"I'm afraid you'll have to explain, dear," he said, dusting the dirt off of his hands.

"You are the reason I have to be here getting my hands dirty digging up these bloody roots!" I yelled.

"I'm sorry, I'm still not following," George said, crossing his arms.

Rapidly growing angrier I picked up the bucket of roots next to my feet and began furiously whipping them at him. He dodged and ducked, flailing his hands to get me to stop.

"You and your stupid quill trick!" I screamed at him.

George blocked his face with his hands and got down on his knees.

"All right! Stop! Katie stop!" he pleaded as I stood over him menacingly.

I lowered my root weapon and glared at him. He peaked through the gap in his fingers to check if the coast was clear, and then slowly rose back up to his feet.

"Merlin you're scary when you're mad," he muttered.

I quirked my eyebrow at him in warning and he reached out and lowered my arm.

"Katie, put the roots down," he said carefully, prying the bucket away from me.

Once the bucket was safely out of reach George turned back to me. I looked at him expectantly.

"Yes?" he asked cheerily, with a huge smile on his face.

"Isn't there something you need to own up to?" I asked.

George blinked at me, "What _are_ you talking about, Bell?"

I lunged at him, causing him to scream like the little girl he is. He landed with a thud on the ground with me on top of him, struggling to punch his lights out. It was a difficult thing to achieve as he had a strong grip on both of my wrists.

"George Weasley!" I screamed.

"Kate, calm down!" he yelled.

"You stupid git!" I yelled back, "I'll never forgive you! You and your constant pranks, your inability to behave like an actual human being! If it weren't for you I'd be sitting up in the common room next to the fire, but instead I'm down here with you rolling around in the dirt!"

"Katie, I get the feeling something's bothering you," George said.

I let out a noise that sounded very much like a growl and attempted to claw his eyes out. He chuckled at my distress and pushed me up off of him, rolling me onto my back. He settled down on top of me, successfully pinning my arms to the ground.

"Now, if you're willing to behave yourself, we can try to talk this out like civilized people," he said calmly.

"That's impossible because that would mean you would have to act civilized!" I spat.

"Now, now Kate, let's calm ourselves," George said, "Deep breath in, and release."

I glared up at him in disgust.

"Ok, now what's on your mind?" he asked.

"You and your stupid quill got me a detention," I said in a voice that was shockingly reminiscent of Professor Snape's.

George gave me a confused look.

"How did I mange that?" he asked.

"I know it was you," I said, "You enchanted my quill to only write '_I love George Weasley_', did you not? And be careful what you say Weasley. If you lie to me I _will_ kill you."

George seemed to consider me a moment before exclaiming:

"Oh! _That_ quill prank! Well why didn't you just say so Kate?"

I shot daggers at him with my death glare and jumped up to strangle him. He backed away hurriedly and held out his arms in defence.

"Ok, I'll admit it wasn't my best work, but don't you want to hear my reasoning for it before you kill me?" he asked.

"I'd rather just kill you," I said, stopping on the spot.

"Well that's too bad," George said.

Very quickly he bent down and grabbed his wand up from the ground, pointing it directly at me.

I yelled out to stop him, but my scream was suddenly muffled. I attempted to reach up and free my mouth from whatever was binding it, but realized that my arms were tied as well. I squirmed and screamed as best I could, wishing that my glares really could shoot daggers as I eyed George angrily.

"Well, seen as how you're all tied up I guess you'll have no choice but to listen to my reasoning," he said, fingering the tip of his wand.

I let out a huff, but thought it useless to protest.

George grinned at me.

"I'm glad you agree."

He tucked his wand back into his pocket, taking an absurd amount of time to do so, and then lifted his gaze back up to mine.

"As you know Katie, I'm not exactly considered to be a star pupil amongst professors at this school—I know, silly to think that someone as attractive as I am is not suitable to be considered one of the elite members suitable to fall into this category, but anyway…I happened to irk Professor Snape yesterday enough that he decided to put me in detention."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, stupid wanker, I know," he said, "I didn't do anything severely wrong anyway, but that's not the point. The point is, he put me in detention for tonight. You following me so far?"

I rolled my eyes again and nodded.

"Good. Now Katie, you and I are both well aware that today is Valentine's Day, correct?"

He paused for my reply.

"Oh, that's right, you can't speak," he said, "I'll just go on then shall I?"

He shot me a devilish grin and continued.

"Well everyone knows what Valentine's Day symbolizes—and there I was sitting in the common room last night, the weight of the world on my shoulders. I knew that the very next night I would be in detention completing some foul and utterly pointless job for Filch, and it saddened me. No one on earth should be alone on Valentine's Day. It's a day to share with your significant other…and that's when I saw it. Your bag, my dear Katie Bell, was sitting on the table directly in front of me. It was practically calling out my name. I simply couldn't resist."

George took a step towards me.

"So, I reached into your bag, pulled out your quills and _altered_ them just enough to work in my favour. I anticipated Snape would react the way he did, and now here we are."

I gave him a confused look.

"Still don't get it do you?" he said, "You see Kate, the reason I caused your quills to write out that delightful little message was so you and I could spend detention together, because, as I pointed out earlier, no one should be alone on Valentine's Day."

I felt a chill run up my spine, but was careful not to let George notice any change in my demeanour. I continued to glare at him spitefully.

"So now Katie my darling, here's what's going to happen," George took another step towards me, "I am going to release you from this bind, and you are going to forgive me for my horrid joke. We are going to kiss and make up, and then we are going to forget about detention and return back to Gryffindor tower where we will show all of the other happy couples up by snogging in the common room."

He grinned at me, "Sound good?"

George took his wand out and gave it a wave. I immediately felt myself being released from the invisible hold. George looked at me expectantly, taking another step towards me so we were merely inches away.

I eyed him for a moment, staring up at him before saying exactly what was on my mind.

"I hate you George Weasley."

He smirked at me.

"Wrong answer."

And with that he leaned down, placed his hand on the back of my neck and gave me the best and most passionate Valentine's Day kiss I've ever had.


End file.
